


The First Bite

by supercookies



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A wolf rescues her, Ben Solo is a werewolf, F/M, HEA, Halloween, Halloween AU, Human Trafficking, Rey is Nobody (Star Wars), Rey is almost human trafficked but it doesn't happen, Werewolf!Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercookies/pseuds/supercookies
Summary: Rey finds herself on the run from Plutt's men - from jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire where she meets Ben Solo along the way.. Except he has a secret no one can know.×This is an A/b/o story with a werewolf vibe in it
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	1. the meet n greet

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains human trafficking themes in regards to Plutt wanting to sell Rey - that's the extent of it. She won't be sold or caught, but she deals with the stress of it. It might get close sometimes but I thought I would include a fair warning - if you're not comfortable I'd advise not to read. 
> 
> This story WILL be a HEA because I'm a big softie for those types.
> 
> Also hello, yes I am late for my halloween fic but I still wanted to post it - it's more spooky vibe than scary tho.

It's sharp and jarring - like how most of her life has been. The thought passes through her mind as she registers it, but at least she's alive. With a few quick shallow breaths that slow in jagges gulps of air her senses come back to her a fraction at a time. First is the blaring noise of her horn, the other is the sickly smell of radiator fluid and gasoline and the third, perhaps last is the rustling of leaves outside her broken window. 

Her right hand trembles to release her from the seatbelt, the other is to the handle of the door. Her knuckle pushes in and then  _ nothing _ and now on top of the pain and confusion, disappointment begins to seep in. She'll have to climb out the window, amongst the shards of glass and into the night.

It won't be long before Plutt's goon's catch up to her. It won't just end with a beating, a few rough words from men she cares nothing for. She knows he's sent these men to fetch her so he can sell her, it's always been about  _ profits  _ and  _ margins  _ along his little black book of criminal mischief. A book she swiped and turned in to a detective who promised her freedom, hope and other empty promises.

She reckons her plight to the story of the man who bought magic beans, but there was no green stalk waiting for her.

A black car's headlights is in the distance of her now broken hanging rear view mirror, casting light through the back of the junky pickup truck.The closer it gets the smaller her window of escape becomes to seal her to a fate far worse than death. 

Her eyes sweep the dashboard seeing shards of glass and to the passenger seat, she spots the wood grip handgun. It's a .22, not much in terms of firepower for a shootout but it was something. She stretches her arm reaching for it but the belt remains locked in place. It kept her from barreling through the window when she swerved to dodge a deer and hit a tree at 35mph - but now it was going to be her undoing. 

She tries once more - even though the belt has bruised her sternum and the tugging is making her nauseous. Her chin wobbles and she sobs to herself, her shit luck and because  _ yes  _ everything hurts. And yet, ironically enough crying takes too much energy, so she just lets the tears flow, sucks in another breath and tries again. The tip of her finger knocks the gun off the seat and to the floor. Her head tilts back against the seat and she swears.

The driver's door is peeled open and she rolls her head to the left- expecting to see Plutt's goon either A or B - they never used names. 

What she sees next steals her breath, her body registering fear as her brain catches up. A pair of light gold eyes captivate her and for the briefest of moments it feels as if time has crawled to a sudden stop. There's a wild almost feral wildness, but the center pupil is black and filled with observance and intelligence. 

Time begins to unwind and her gaze drops to study the rest of the face finding a wolfish pair of canines,  _ wet  _ and dripping with pools of salvia. A tongue runs out, lapping at its own mouth before the peaked ears twitch and she gulps in response.

Did she hit her head harder on the steering column than she thought? She wants to tell herself it's nothing more than an amazing illusion dreamed up by possible brain damage, but a chilly snout is pressed up by her damp throat and she hears very audibly the wolf..  _ sniff.  _

And then there's a few more quick sniffs, like something has hold of its attention. The cold snout drifts down along her collarbone where her head tilts away - not out of welcome, but surrender for fear of agitating the beast. They both pause and then she feels a long, cool lick over the front of her throat. An involuntary shiver courses through her body in response, bumps of flesh along her arms and thighs. She wonders briefly if the beast means to console it's prey before it devours her.

The spell is undone the instant the arrival of the car - the slamming of the doors and the sight of them sends dread coursing through her body. Escape. Flee. Run. Her hands tighten into fist and it sends the beast at her side into alarm - it's reeling back like she tastes rancid. 

When it stands back, she's able to see it in the headlights the  _ size _ of the beast in all its glory. It has the body of a man, but the height is massive and he stands on two enormous feet with a set of talons on the ends of them. His hands are still rested on the frame of the truck, but one is large enough to engulf her waist. There's a set of claws sharp enough that it cuts metal, combined with strength that the truck responds like an aluminum can, being crushed and mangled as he squeezes. The chest huffs in one air and growls, explicitly at her - a low rumble and she knows he's telling her to stay. 

It's a different growl because when his head whips to the two behind her, he growls at them and it's far more vicious sounding that chills her blood. And then, whether it's the black fur he is covered in or the speed he possesses, he's upon the men in a flash. 

"What the hell is that?" And "Get back in the car!" Before mangled cries fill the air. 

Her eyes open in time to see from the rearview mirror, a swipe of a clawed hand that separates flesh from bone in an instant. Then before the other can reach for his gun, the beast lunges in with a growl and her eyes shut, but her ears hear everything.

She's off, in no particular direction except for the cut of the forest. The terrain isn't easy, it's dark and hard to navigate and the cold slaps across her skin like a reminder she's still wearing what she left in. Torn jeans, worn sneakers and a faded band shirt. If she got lost out here and succumbed to the cold she wonders faintly if people would think she went mad and not that she was running for her life.

There's the sound of her breath sucking in air and the echoes of the crying men which come to a chilling abrupt end and before long she gets the feeling that something is following her. An uprooted branch takes her footing and into the grass and dirt she lands. 

It can't end like this.

It's exhausting -  _ she's _ exhausted and her body aches at the idea of running any further so she crawls. Her muscles tremble under effort and she would have fainted if it was a luxury she could afford. 

There's something approaching, the weight of the steps shifts the earth and grass and before long she finds a warm padded hand rolling her from her side to her back. She panics, claws and scratches - "don't-touch-me!" And then, over her shouts she hears:

"Please,  _ stop _ \- I'm just trying to help." 

Her eyes open to find nothing more than a man, with long dark hair and a shirt and jeans. He helps her to her feet and because he's not an immediate threat - her hands latch into his shirt as she breaks like a dam.

" _ Please _ , you have to help me - these men and then I saw a wolf or a man, I don't know," she knows how bizarre it all sounds, but the man is just quietly taking in everything. "We have to run, we have to get away from here," she fights to fill in every detail but it's all panicked jargon and yet he's quiet.. listening, perhaps, but assessing as well. 

"You're safe," he offers her when he's finally had a chance to interject. Her brows begin to thread together and her mind is racing to ask -

Where did he come from?

He supplies seamlessly like he can sense her thoughts. "I heard a wreck, my cabin isn't too far from here and I was out on a walk with my dog but he ran off on me."

The story seems sensible or maybe  _ she's  _ not sensible but she quiets down and nods. From motormouth to wallflower, it feels like all the energy is drained. She nearly sinks to her knees and even though a gentle  _ woah _ escapes him, he never let go of her either. The sky behind him is darkening as her body grows slack. She tries to speak, tries her hardest to resist the pull of slumber but it's incoherent words. 

"I got you, you're safe now." She doesn't really believe that, but as he takes arm under her legs and hoists her with ease she finds herself soothed enough to sleep. She also never knew how warm the touch of another could be.

×  
  
  



	2. safely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey awakens to discover that the wolf.. was probably nothing more than a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No BETAAAAAA.
> 
> I'm enjoying writing this fic 😌. I hope all of you who read are doing well.

Sleep never found her willingly as it had nothing good to offer her. Often it was someone's boot in her back if she dozed off too long or some loud banging to jar her awake. Work needed to be done, which could mean bright and early or late at night if they were staying under the radar. Not knowing when her next shift was kept her guessing and it was hard to unwind because letting her guard down had other complications too.

There was always the fear that she would wake to a knife at her throat, where someone else could make demands. So she stayed smart, aware, alert and hidden - never sleeping in the same spot for too long and kept others guessing  _ when _ she slept. There was a lot of that - a life she wouldn't quite wish on anyone else except Plutt.

When his demeanor shifted from cruel taskmaster to offering her things out of kindness her suspicions left her paranoid. His eyes would linger on her - not at all looking at her as a person, but a thing or an object. He had the same look when a new product came his way. 

She knew then that he had plans to make  _ her _ his new product. The men that came through his shop weren't like his usual goons with shifty eyes, these wore nice suits and drove nondescript black cars.

Out of desperation she reached out to local authorities, but it was hard to convince them what was to come. They only wanted to know of crimes that had occurred and she knew by then it would be too late. 

They too wanted things from her: details, times and locations while stringing her along. She turned over the ledger of names and dates, but it wasn't enough and only then did she know how much of a fool she had been. 

There were men in the department with the same name on the ledge - and she turned leaving then and there and that was how she found herself slumped over the wheel of the stolen SUV and panting into the dark forest.

It wasn't just the rest she needed, but the exhaustion that kept her under. A bed, so soft cradled her and something equal parts warm and fuzzy cloaked her. A heat sank against her back. It came with a deep heat, the kind that sank into her and soothed her achy body. There was comfort and she never was in any pain too long - despite the cuts and scrapes she sustained it felt like a cool balm was being spread along them. 

When she finally came too - she was in a different setting altogether and it took her time to take in her surroundings outside of the big comfortable bed. It was a sizable room that felt big to her, but it wasn't quite a fair assessment. There were items like a radio nearby, a wooden chair that had a lean to it and was padded with cushions. A throw was draped over it, appearing to look as if someone had slept in it. 

The door opened drawing her attention to see a man, holding a bowl of contents which remained a total mystery, but it smelled heavenly. "Oh? You're awake." He gave a simple smile further entering the room as if delighted by the surprise. No one was ever pleased to see her - she was nothing more than  _ you girl _ or  _ scavenger _ . "I made some stew- I don't know if you like rabbit, but I-"

"How long have I been out?" She sat upright, the comforter slipped away to reveal her clothes were changed. She was wearing a XL red plaid men's flannel - it smelled like spice and woodsy - with nothing underneath. 

"Awhile." He answers with a calmness that unnerves her because he isn't looking at her. His gaze is pointed somewhere at the floor, the tips of his ears red. He seems flustered, like he's remembering -  _ oh.  _ "And I had to, your clothes were wet," his voice wobbles a little, cute, he takes a moment to swallow before continuing. "With blood," he catches her own gaze and it's her turn to look elsewhere for a moment.

Her eyes close, taking a breath to collect herself before asking the obvious. "Well how long is  _ awhile _ ," she jerks her gaze to him, the room and bed, him again (and the bowl of stew). Is that for her?

"About a day." He doesn't enclose in on her space, merely leans to reach and set the bowl down beside the table before he resumes his earlier standing upright. He's wary of her like she's the threat, some wild animal who made it into his room - even if he's the one who put her there. 

She bites on her bottom lip, contemplative. "And you didn't think to call the police? Or something?" Her brows tether together and she realizes she's frowning, then her gaze shifts to the bowl as she's reaching for it.  _ This for me? _ She barely whispers it because she is going to have it anyways. He nods once. 

"Well no, I mean I would have taken you to the hospital but I didn't think it would be wise considering-" he pauses, this time taking a moment to watch her eagerly put spoonfuls of the stew away as she listens. She  _ is  _ listening, isn't she? For some reason he's acting pleased by displaying a closed-lipped smile. It doesn't last long but he switches gears, "I'll leave you be."

"No," it surprises herself how quick she is to answer, but being left alone makes her more uncomfortable than she cares to admit. "I just- I should be the one to go," and also because her bowl is empty. 

If she died, people might suspect him -  _ him _ who is entirely just an innocent bystander. She always had to be careful because she couldn't afford the luxury of  _ making _ mistakes.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really used to any of  _ this _ ." She shifts to bring her feet over the bed, the front pad of her feet touches a soft rug. She didn't think they made rugs soft like this. From here she can see a few bandages and her left ankle is wrapped neatly. Her thighs are pale and bare, the shirt is big and hangs on her but it's rucked up from her shifting to the edge. 

"What aren't you used to?" He's looking down at her thighs and swallows. 

She has a lot of uneven tans and she knows faintly he's seen it all. He still seems interested and she doesn't mind the attention, it's kind of funny to see a man fumble as much as he does. "You know.. People doing - you know what, nevermind." It's the last part that she realizes it sounds too pathetic to voice. 

"I want to know," he's strangely adamant about it and takes a half step closer, his gaze is warmer and deeper. "So that I can be the first to do it," his gaze holds her face and then drops down to view  _ all _ of her, bed hair included. His shoulders sink a little, like whatever was possessing him has relinquished it's hold over him. It has a similar effect because she realizes she stopped to hold her breath. "If you want, of course - if not that's okay too.  _ Well,  _ what I mean to say is," and then he stops, exhales and rubs at his face. 

She decides to have a little grace.

"I'm glad you didn't call the police," and now he looks confused,  _ rightfully so _ she thinks. "They haven't been too helpful," her hand touches the back of her neck to rub as another painful gap of silence occurs. 

"So you're upset over something I should do, but glad I didn't?" When he spells it out like that, she knows it's crazy.

She makes an effort to stand, "no I-" and a weird noise crawls from her throat - a strangled  _ whimper _ , the pain catching her completely by surprise. Her bottom is sitting back on the bed, but she's doubled over with her hand pressed against her side and holding. 

He's right there in front of her as he shouts in a panic. "Easy!" 

"I'm okay," her eyes prickle with water and she knows she's just saying it. He seems to know it too because he's got a frown. 

"Don't speak, just breathe," his hands cup the sides of her arms, rubbing and massaging - up to the curve of her shoulder and down by her elbow. "Nice and slow, alright sweetheart?" It's a good distraction, meant to soothe and he seems calmer as well or maybe he's really good at hiding it. 

She takes a few  _ slow _ breaths, finding now that the rich woodsy scent is coming from him. There's a spice to it, something like cinnamon but it's not so strong that it's overpowering. The pain across her chest dulls to a soft ache - the way it is spread is in the same direction of the seatbelt. 

"Can we-" she pulls back reluctantly - it's not ever that she gets the chance to revel in gentleness, she wouldn't mind having stayed nearby. When his hands pull away she wants to cry. "Can we start over?" Her voice is small, a little hopeful and somewhat shy no thanks to the proximity. 

He looks her over once more and she wonders if the moment is just too awkward. He purses his lips and offers up - "I'm Ben."

"Ben?" She parrots but only to test out his name. 

"My name - Ben Solo." He clarifies.

It's her turn to flush, she hadn't been expecting it to be so.. easy. "Ri-right, I'm Rey." 

When he chuckles, it's deep and right in her ears, it makes him look so much younger. "Well nice to finally meet you, Rey." His smile crinkles the corner of his eyes and his soft plush lips part. At this minimal distance she can see a swirl of gold mixed in the dark brown, it's equal parts captivating and confusing - like she had seen them somewhere but it's not quite right.

There's more about his face she finds to study - theirs sweeping angles and a strong, prominent nose. His lips, however - are two sets of plush pillows with a filtrum that helps define his cupid's bow. 

The urge to set a kiss there doesn't go totally unnoticed, she's leaning in another inch closer - their noses, almost touching and he's held his breath in wait. 

And then the door bursts open with a giant mop of a brown dog. There's a puppy like energy, eager to greet, sniff and jump but all at once. 

"Chewie!" Ben's voice calls out with more of a cry than anger, he's flustered and not so amused by his dog who decided  _ now _ is the perfect time to impress his guest.

He's on the bed, planting his cold nose on her cheek and giving a lick by her palm (he was aiming for her face) before Ben can attempt to wrangle the mop. "Well hello to you too," Rey offers a laugh, finding the energy somewhat alleviating.

"I'm sorry, he's my old man's dog - he thought I'd get lonely up here." The dog barks, a loud  _ woof _ and the two have a slight staring match. Chewie turns his head away, but rather than fight he pouts with a much more distant  _ woof _ before plopping down on his share of the bed. "I'll put him out if he bothers you."

Her arm comes around the neck of the friendly dog, ruffling up his head for pets before draping it along the dog. "I don't mind, I could use the company while I rest." Her hand rests over her chest still feeling the ache. "If that's alright? Then I'll be out of your hair."

"Stay," it sounds almost childish the way he says it but he's kneeling down to be eye level with her and looking between her and the dog before smiling."I'll worry, it's just me and Chewie and I could use the company." His arm reaches across, fingers curling under the dog's jaw. 

Rey's taken off guard for a moment, not at his gentle demeanor, but her own willful desires springing forth. It's sudden, the thought of reaching across to take his hand and guide it between her thighs  _ \- pet me too _ , but she  _ doesn't _ of course and she's reeling when she hears him.

"Please?"

She's far too embarrassed to look him in the eye, but answers softly. "If you insist." And then she's leaning back into the pillows, sinking a bit deeper under the comforter as he brings the comforter up a little higher for her before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. Before sleep can take her, she tells herself that after she's strong enough she'll take her leave so as not to involve him in any further and that the wolf she saw in the forest was nothing more than a nightmare. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I missed anything, feel free to let me know!


	3. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well fyi, it's a short chapter. I've been extremely busy and kind of low muse, but I wanted to sort of get this out there. It's more like a slight recap but with Ben. Hope everyone is doing well!

He thinks it's the sight of the moon that calls to him with her bewitching beauty. A soft clear glow with a blue hue to it, the sight of its size is illuminating in the dark backdrop. There's something in him that's soothed for a moment.

The restless urge of man and beast dueling within him for control.  _ Escape. Freedom. Leave the cabin. Hunt. Let's hunt. _ The singular voice is doubled by another and it chants his desires like a drum. The voice is loud and in a forest filled with chirping crickets, he frees himself from his fleshly cage.

Sometimes it's the vivid, painful memories of his parents Han and Leia arguing that drive him to take a midnight stroll. A sense of restless energy that makes the hairs on his arm and neck stand up. He ran often as a kid and when he got too fast for them to chase - they sent him away, much too soon. 

Now, out here - there's no one that can catch him. 

There's always a familiar ache that sits in the bottom of his stomach - heavy, but empty and he isn't entirely sure when it began. It craves to be filled, so he takes to hunting - animals mostly.

People are forbidden from entering this forestry - owned by Skywalkers and protected not just by the forest registry, but Ben too. 

And every brave face that made any attempts turn white as a ghost when they glimpse upon him from the shadows. They'll sputter and scream and he chases them to the border right to the ranger. Their stories are always chalked up to a bad _ trip _ .

×

"A werewolf you say?" The ranger - his Uncle questions the group with a disbelieving tone in spite of their frightened faces. 

"YES! Yes!" They whip around expecting to see it, but he's hidden in the thick foliage, watching of course.

"But I don't see nothing.." And then his gaze sets on Ben with a long hard stare. Admittedly he hates that he can be spotted, even now, but the man adjusts his tone and looks back to the group. "You guys smoking something?" And it devolves from there.

×

  
  


Perhaps it's the chase, but he always sets his sights on an agile animal, mostly a doe. They're a lot more graceful than a human, hoping and darting over rough terrain with simple gallops. They last a lot longer and the taste of anticipation gets to build. 

A slick gleam of sweat coats his body and his tongue dances inside his mouth. Long legs carry him as swift as  _ this  _ form will take him and then it occurs suddenly. 

A clawed hand strikes the tree like a scratching post, pieces of bark pop off. Ben takes a few lunges forward, but the rest occur in his  _ other _ form. He could cover his tracks and conceal himself in the dark but that meant no chase and he enjoyed the hunt as well as the pursuit.

It was the Alpha in him, he reasoned.

The doe is off in a freight which sends him to pursue - out to the highway and into the headlights of a car. 

_ Damn _ , it's the Alpha's voice in him that brings Ben to acknowledge it's been some time since he heard his hindbrain speak. 

Tires screech, the car swerves  _ and _ it ends, with a metal crunch. The horn flares and Ben tells himself the driver is probably dead - but the  _ other  _ corrects him.

_ Alive _ and  _ injured  _ as well as  _ easy prey  _ are just some of the few thoughts that fill his head.

The smell of burning rubber and gasoline permeate into the air, but  _ there _ underneath the two is a scent he does not know. It's a curious odor, but it's too faint to define - like a species of flowers he's never known before. 

When he's close, he peels the door off like a lid and sends it skirting away.  _ There _ in the driver seat is - ? 

_ Omega _ his mind supplies, but the scent isn't  _ quite _ right and  _ not Beta  _ because the lilacs though faint are nice. 

There's the taste of her blood in the air that makes his mouth salivate and he's leaning in to huff her scent a bit more, to figure her out, when the scent of fear begins to stick inside his nose.

For the first time, it's acrid enough that he steps back and attempts to sneeze to rid it from sticking to him. And on the third sneeze, he halts to see the cause is a car. They draw their weapons and in the first time since a long time - he does not chase the two to his Uncle. He deals with them himself or more correctly he lets the beast in him set his jaw to flesh and fat. 

When he returns to find the girl - she hasn't gotten far, but her scent is far too bitter for the beast in him to approach. She's so beside herself with  _ relief _ \- when she finally sees him. Her story is nearly senseless, made up of random pieces of time and missing events. She manages to tell him everything and yet nothing, her cheeks flushing a nice rosy pink. 

He could watch and listen, but another sense in her begins to kick up - it's the one called reason. 

What's a man doing out alone in a forest? Where did the wolf go? He gives her a story that satisfies her curiosity and now that she doesn't have one thing to focus on, her face blanches white and her knees buckle so suddenly he has to step quickly to grab her. 

His right arm secures her, wrapped around her middle and his left palm is under cradling her head and neck. The next set of words falling from her mouth are incoherent little mumbles, so he pulls her up to carry her against his chest and whispers in her ears words meant to comfort her.

The night time he sees her awake is the morning  _ after _ she slept through the day. 


End file.
